


You're Here

by oldmoviebuff



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Brief appearance by the losers, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confession, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Spooning, Unrequited Love, cuddleing, grown gays crying and confessing their feelings, is this a dream, like too happy of an ending, loss of a loved one, mentions of drinking, richie is an emotional wreck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-21 08:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21071678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmoviebuff/pseuds/oldmoviebuff
Summary: It was 2AM and, to put it simply, Richie was dumbfounded. And like 90% sure he was having a drunk hallucination. Do people have hallucinations when drunk? Richie wasn’t sure. He’d barely been sober in the past three weeks since returning to LA. He’d told his agent he needed time off, then crawled into a bottle to mourn the loss of his best friend. His unrequited love. His only love. Eddie. The very same Eddie that was currently standing in his doorway.





	1. You're Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoskaFleur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoskaFleur/gifts).

> I try not to do multi part fics anymore unless I for sure have an end in mind. So rest assured, this will be completed. Probably by the end of the week. There is for sure another chapter and possibly an epilogue, but might make that part of the second chapter. It'll depend. But the story as is, will finish in chapter 2.

It was 2AM and, to put it simply, Richie was dumbfounded. And like 90% sure he was having a drunk hallucination. Do people have hallucinations when drunk? Richie wasn’t sure. He’d barely been sober in the past three weeks since returning to LA. He’d told his agent he needed time off, then crawled into a bottle to mourn the loss of his best friend. His unrequited love. His _only_ love. Eddie. The very same Eddie that was currently standing in his doorway.

So yeah, Richie was dumbfounded. He wasn’t alone though. Eddie looked about as lost as he did.

“You’re here…”Richie tentatively reached out in front of him, pressing lightly against Eddie’s chest. Much to his great shock, Eddie didn’t immediately disappear into thin air.

“You-You’re here… and-and-and… you’re here!” Richie stammered again as Eddie silently nodded.

“Richie…this is gonna sound crazy. But where am I?” Worry crossed Eddie’s face as Richie fought back the tears of hearing Eddie’s voice again.

“…My apartment, Eds… In LA… What’s going on?” His brow furrowed as his brain tried to simultaneously comprehend what was happening and reconciling the fact that Eddie was alive at all.

“…I-I don’t know…” Eddie looked scared for a moment as he also tried to piece everything together. “He…It.. stabbed me… You guys were all around me… we were talking about something… you looked so worried… then I-I-I closed my eyes, I guess, and when I opened them I was standing here.”

Richie took a second to give the impossible Eddie a once over, and noticed that he was indeed in the same clothes as when they faced that fucking clown. But they were clean, intact, as if nothing had happened at all.

“Rich, can I come in?...” His voice shook as his breathing turned to a staccato rhythm. “I-I can’t find my inhaler…”

This broke Richie out of his bewilderment. “Oh shit, yeah, Eds, of course!”

His addled brain was still wracking itself, but Richie pushed it down as he carefully wrapped an arm over Eddie’s shoulder and guided him into the living room.

“Just breathe, ok? Sit here. And breathe…” Richie tried to be more helpful. He could always talk Eddie down when they were kids, but that was pretty low on his attention priority scale at the moment.

Richie decided the best course of action would be to get him a drink of water, but as he turned to go to the kitchen, he was stopped by Eddie’s hand. “Don’t go…. Please Rich… I’m really scared…” He managed out between stuttered breaths.

“Not in a million years, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie forced his own impending freak out to the back burner as he sat next to Eddie on the couch. He brought a hand up to gently rub his back, as Eddie leaned forward into his hands and concentrated on steadying his breathing.

After a good few minutes working through his panic attack, and a few minutes more for good measure, Eddie finally allowed himself a long, slow inhale and sat up. Richie continued to run his hand across Eddie’s back. A little bit because he thought it would help keep Eddie calm. A lot bit because he was afraid that if he stopped touching him, he would wake up from this fucked up dream he was obviously having. It was the only explanation.

“Did we win?” Eddie whispered.

“We won.” Richie smiled at Eddie, content to try and enjoy this dream even if he was going to wake up in despair because of it.

“When?” Eddie shifted on the couch to face him.

“About three weeks ago.” Three weeks since the other Losers pried him off of Eddie’s dead body and dragged him from the crumbling house.

Eddie tensed under his hand, and Richie knew what was coming next. “……Did I die?” There it was. The question he knew was coming, and the one he really, _really_ didn’t want to answer.

“You did… I tried to get you out. But you were already-…it was too late. You die-…. and I wasn’t there with you! The house… the _everything_ started caving in… I couldn’t get you out… I tried, but they pulled me away. I fought the whole way out. I couldn’t just leave you there in that cold, dark place! But they… they did it for _me_…to save me… but all I wanted was to stay there with you…I couldn’t leave you alone!” He couldn’t hold his grief in any longer and lurched forward to hold Eddie as close to him as he had under Neibolt.

“I’m sorry, Richie. I’m sorry.” His voice sounded so small and weak and Richie could hear the tears around it.

“It wasn’t your fault, Eddie. You _saved_ ME! It was _my_ fault! I shot off my fucking mouth and he got me….” It was out in the open now. His guilt, his shame, his burden. Why he couldn’t move on. Why he hadn’t been sober since that day. Why he was dreaming about this now. It was his fault. Richie dug his fingers into Eddie’s hair and rocked back and forth.

“But I _wanted_ to save you… I was brave for _you_…. I remembered… I wanted to tell you something. I _needed_ to tell you something before I… but then I did… before I could…”

Richie held him closer as his own tears started to form. He threw off his glasses and buried his head into Eddie’s shoulder, taking him… everything in.

“I wanted to tell you that…I loved you, Rich….I-I love you.”

Richie froze. What the shitfuck kind of demonic dream was this? He understood the guilt thing. His mind trying to relieve him of the pain he was allowing to consume him. But _this?_ This felt like a low blow. Like his mind was trying to give him too easy of an out. No, you weren’t responsible for your unrequited love’s death. And bonus! Turns out it was totally requited. Of course his fucked up mind would conceive of something like this. Or maybe it wasn’t even his mind. Maybe it was the last scar Pennywise would leave. This too happy, too perfect ending that would only be ripped away from him the same as before.

Well, whatever sadistic trick was being pulled on Richie, he forced himself to ignore it. Right now, Eddie was here in his arms and he was going to take what he could get for as long as he could get it. ‘If I know what’s going to happen, anyway, it can’t hurt as much when it does.’ He reasoned to himself before he finally resolved to let it all out in the open.

“Before I left Derry…” his voice sounded distorted and strange, almost as though he wasn’t even talking. “… I went to the Kissing Bridge. And I carved something…”

Eddie held him tighter. “What?”

“Back when we were kids… I-….I carved our initials into the bridge… I carved R+ E…Then before I left this last time… I went back and found them. They were faded and almost unreadable… but they were still there. I re-carved our initials in. No one knows who they belong to, but _I_ could see them again. You plus me….” He drew a shaking breath. “…as it always should’ve been.”

Richie’s tears were falling hard and fast now as he let out the sob he had been holding in since he opened the door.

“ I love _you, _Eddie. For as long as I can remember. I’ve always loved _you_…. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you….” His voice broke and Richie lost what little strength he had left. He fell back against the arm of the couch, taking the smaller man with him. Eddie burrowed his face into Richie’s chest and his heart fluttered at the hot breath he felt there.

“I’m here _now_, Richie.” Eddie muffled into Richie’s shirt, holding on to him as tightly as Richie had been. His arms were like two useless stumps, thrown across Eddie’s back. He was exhausted.

“I know Eds, I know…” Richie strained a smile to his face, hoping he could will himself to believe the lie.

Minutes, hours, years later, Richie felt Eddie stir against him. He allowed his limbs to fall to his sides as Eddie sat up, bracing himself against Richie’s chest. His face bore the lines of age as well as the years of unimaginable stress he lived under. He looked about a million years old. But somehow, in the moonlight, his face also looked young, childlike. His eyes were swollen and reddened from tears, and his jaw was rigid. It reminded Richie of when they were kids. He wore the same face after the first encounter in the Neibolt house when he broke his arm. Scared, confused, and in need of protection.

He’d been brave when he finally faced the Clown. Richie wished he could’ve seen that. And he had been brave in the face of death. And Richie wished he _hadn’t_ seen that. But now, Eddie was scared. Richie really hated his brain sometimes.

He was about to reach up to hold unto Eddie’s worried face, to tell him it was going to be all right, when Eddie’s weight shifted again. It took Richie a split second to register that Eddie was slowly leaning down towards him. When their lips actually met, it took Richie several more seconds to realize what was happening. Eddie’s hands cautiously slid up from his chest and held onto his face for dear life. Fuck it. Richie closed his eyes and let himself go. He felt his hands climb back up to Eddie’s shoulder blades and buried themselves into his flawless hoodie. Their kiss was slow and languid, easing out all those years of repressed feelings and words. His stomach flipped at the little noises and moans Eddie released into his mouth. It all sounded so real. It felt so real. It was just like he imagined it would be all those times he daydreamed about Eddie while they were growing up. Eddie sprawled out on top of him, his fingers gently massaging into his neck and hair… Richie wished beyond anything else that this moment would last forever. But it didn’t. It couldn’t. Richie knew.

Gradually, they separated and Eddie rested his forehead against Richie’s. The air between them mixed, hot and weighted, and it was almost too much. It burned.

“I love you, Eddie…” Richie breathed out against the other’s swollen lips.

“I love you.” Eddie responded with a tender peck on the corner of his mouth. Richie’s hands found their way into Eddie’s hair and cradled his head against his own. And there they sat, in their quiet little bubble.

“Richie?” His wavering voice broke the gentle silence, but Richie couldn’t find it in him to be mad. Not at Eddie. Never at Eddie.

“Yeah, Eddie?” His eyes were closed, but Richie could sense what was coming next. The bubble was about to pop.

“Can I... that is…would it be ok if I slept with you tonight?”

This was it. Richie knew. He just knew. But he couldn’t say no to Eddie. It hurt with every fiber of his being, but what choice did he have? “Of course you can…” He bit back the heartbreak in his voice and released Eddie from his grip.

As nonchalantly as he could, Richie stood from the couch and stretched. He turned and offered a hand to Eddie, who was still kneeling on the cushions, smiling awkwardly at him.

“Now that I’ve told you that I love you, would you still get mad if I called you impossibly cute?” Richie smiled and ruffled Eddie’s hair.

“Shut the fuck up, Tozier and take me to bed.” Eddie pouted in false anger.

There it was, for a brief moment, they had their ‘them’ back. That old dynamic. The very core of what made Richie fall for Eddie in the first place. Richie grinned through the knife he felt twisting in his heart, as he held out a hand to help Eddie up.

“This way, dear.” He smirked, leading Eddie through the hall to his bedroom. Covering up his true feelings had been a part of him for so long, it was natural for Richie at this point. So why was it so hard now?

Once in his room, Richie climbed into the bed, and rearranged the blankets so they sat a little more evenly across the top. It didn’t really matter, but he wanted to avoid staring at Eddie as he stripped himself of his clothes. When he was down to his t-shirt and boxers, Richie held open the covers for him.

“In ya get, Eddie Spaghetti. Nice and warm.” Thankfully, the low light of the room hid the cracks in his façade, as Eddie just rolled his eyes and hesitantly settled in under the sheets.

Without a word, they instinctively moved to a spooning position, with Eddie’s back settled against Richie’s chest. His arms wrapped around him, without a struggle, and Eddie’s hands encased his without protest. Richie nestled his nose into Eddie’s dark hair, trying to take in every scent, every touch, every memory he could before he fell asleep. It didn’t take long for Eddie to lose the battle. In only a matter of minutes, Richie felt his breath even out and the rise and fall of his chest move to a slow, steady rhythm. Sleep was starting to claim him as well, but Richie fought it. Fought it with all the hatred he flung at the Clown. Fought it will all the force he pushed against the Losers’ grips. Fought it with all the years he kept his feelings to himself. He fought it with every last bit of strength he had left. Because he knew that when he finally lost, he would wake up alone.

Hot silent tears ran down his face, as he held onto the warm body next to him. Richie couldn’t tell when, but sleep did eventually claim him. The last thought on his mind was how sickeningly happy this moment should’ve been, had things turned out different.


	2. You're Still Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The blinding sun piercing in from between Richie’s curtains is what finally pulled him from his emotionally exhausting nightmare. He immediately tried to slap a hand to his clenched eyes, but his hand didn’t respond. After a few painful seconds of trying to blink them open and focus through his hangover, Richie craned his head to see why. There, in his arms, sleeping soundly, was Eddie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter took so long to post. I actually did have it finished 3 days ago, but I got too busy over the weekend to edit it. Enjoy the smut!

The blinding sun piercing in from between Richie’s curtains is what finally pulled him from his emotionally exhausting nightmare. He immediately tried to slap a hand to his clenched eyes, but his hand didn’t respond. After a few painful seconds of trying to blink them open and focus through his hangover, Richie craned his head to see why. There, in his arms, sleeping soundly, was Eddie.

“You’re…still here…” the whisper barely registered a sound, but it was enough to stir the smaller man, whose grip on his hands suddenly tightened.

“What….” Eddie murmured, sleep still thoroughly wrapped around his voice.

“I thought…it was a dream…” Richie couldn’t shake the disbelief that tugged at him every which way.

Eddie took a moment before letting go of Richie’s sweating hands and turned to prop himself up on the bed, facing him. “What do you mean?”

“You- you’re actually alive… You’re here… Right now… You’re still here!”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Eddie glided a hand up to Richie’s stubbled cheek, which Richie instantly covered with his own.

“I thought… there was no way it could be you… You died, Eddie!” He felt fresh tears welling up in his eyes, blurring his vision, but he didn’t care. “I held you… I felt it… there’s no way you could’ve actually been real!”

He became painfully aware of how much his head hurt and how loud he was panting, but he couldn’t stop it. How was this real?

“I don’t know, Rich…” He grazed his thumb over Richie’s tears. “…But last night felt real…._This_…” he pinched Richie’s cheek and grinned. “…feels real.”

Richie couldn’t help the small laugh that burst out of his mouth. Gradually, he could feel the lump of doubt in his throat dissolve into a cautious glimmer of hope. Maybe…

“Should I prove it to you, Trashmouth?” Eddie whispered the ends of his lips creeping back upwards as he spoke.

“How-…” And Eddie was on him like the night before, though his awkward angle forced him to drop diagonally across Richie’s chest, as he captured his mouth in a burning kiss. Richie wasn’t bothered in the slightest.

He was busy riding a wave of uninhibited elation for the first time in, well, ever. Eddie was real. Eddie was alive. And Eddie loved him. His revelation unleashed this magnitude of lightness that he could scarcely wrap his head around. But he didn’t need to. Eddie’s mouth on his _was _something he could wrap his head around.

Without breaking contact, Richie managed to motion Eddie flush on top of him, so he wouldn’t have to keep straining himself. He flung his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and held him as he had the night before. Less so his being terrified that Eddie would disappear at any moment, and more so his making up for all the years they lost.

With Eddie’s lips enclosed around his, their legs entangled, and his comforting weight pressed against his own, Richie began to feel his body react. He hated himself for it. Why couldn’t they just have this moment? Why couldn’t his dumb body get that this might come off as too sudden for Eddie? He wasn’t thirteen anymore. He should’ve been able to control himself better than this. And sure enough, all it took was Eddie shifting his weight from one side to the other. Everything stopped. Eddie’s eyes shot open and found his. Richie wanted to pull away and begin to apologize profusely and maybe work in some kind of jab about his mother. Anything to distract the deer-in-the-headlights stare he was getting from Eddie.

An entire eternity passed before the silence threatened to snap Richie in half. Before his shame and embarrassment consumed him entirely, Eddie shifted his hips once more. On purpose.

“Eddie…” Richie tore his mouth away. “…I…are you?...”

“Shut up, Tozier.” Eddie closed his eyes and reattached himself to Richie’s face, grinding pointedly against crotch once more. And for once, Richie did as he was told.

Instead, he made use of his long arms and reached down Eddie’s back to grab at the hem of his shirt. It was no easy task, as Eddie seemed content to keep rolling his, now noticeable, erection into his. With much reluctance, Richie pushed Eddie away, sighing at the moan of disappointment from the panting man above him. Keeping to Eddie’s request, Richie didn’t say a word as he nudged him to his knees between his long legs. Richie sat up himself and scooted closer, not wanting to be free from Eddie’s hands for too long. But he was greedy. He wanted more. After all these years of unfulfilling and empty relationships without ever quite understanding why, Richie was ready for so much more.

Eddie must’ve read his mind, because he leaned forward just as Richie did and they crashed together in a mess of tongues, lips, and hands grasping desperately for shirt hems.

Eddie managed to get Richie’s shirt off first, and peppered his chest with several small kisses. Richie bit his lip and swallowed the urge to wrap his hands around Eddie’s head and hold him there for the foreseeable future. But after a few indulgent moments of feathered pecks, Richie nudged Eddie away and pulled off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. When he tore his eyes away from Eddie’s to look at the newly exposed flesh, he froze.

There, running down the center of Eddie’s chest, was a long scar that glimmered gold. Richie hesitantly ghosted his fingers over it, afraid Eddie would cry out in pain. Eddie, completely unaware of what pulled Richie’s attention so suddenly, craned his head to look at his chest.

“…….Is that where…”Eddie stuttered, gracing his hand down the golden line.

“I think so, Eds…. Does it hurt?” Richie responded carefully, breaking his silence as his stomach threatened to evacuate what little contents it had. He watched Eddie carefully as he cautiously inspected the scar.

“…No… It doesn’t!” He met Richie’s eyes with a nervous half smile. Richie saw the pain mixed with relief behind it. How much it must have hurt when….well, not really ‘when’. Richie kept forgetting that his three weeks ago was Eddie’s twelve hours ago. How jarring this must be for him, and yet there he was; smiling like an idiot, tears welling in his eyes with blind gratitude at whatever twist of fate landed him alive and well in Richie’s bed. As Eddie smiled, Richie noticed something else, a flicker of gold on Eddie’s left cheek. He gently brought a hand to his face and slowly turned it. The place where Bowers had stabbed him, was also now a thin, a golden scar. He cupped Eddie’s face in his hands and pulled him up into a slow, tender kiss.

After a few seconds, Eddie appeared to grow impatient with ‘slow’ and ‘tender’, and lunged himself and Richie back down to the bed. Richie gasped when a stray hand flew down his pajama pants and grabbed hold of him. His brain all but ceased to function as Eddie’s thumb circled the head and he began to tease at the wetness forming there.

“E-Eddie, Eddie… DUDE!…. H-h-hold on!” Richie huffed as he forced his mouth to form coherent words. “There’s no rush… we can take it sl-“

“We’ve been going slow for twenty-seven years…” Eddie clasped the back of Richie’s messy locks and whispered into his ear. “I’ve just been handed a ‘get out of jail free’ card by the universe and I’m using it. Unless, of course….you _need _me to take it slow…old man…”

“Fuck you, ‘old man’! I got moves that’d make a porn star orgasm for real.” Richie pulled in the legs he had on either side of Eddie and trapped him.

“Then why don’t you put your money where that fucking trashmouth is.” Eddie punctuated the challenge with a momentary squeeze of his occupied hand.

“With pleasure, _Eddie-Bear_.” That slowed him down to a screeching halt.

“What _the fuck _did you just call me?” Eddie’s voice turned sharply into a threat.

“You heard me.” Richie grinned mischievously, accenting his response with a pointed thrust up into Eddie’s hand. He warmed at the anger that colored his face. There was his good old Eddie, pissed off and perfect.

Richie decided he’d chided Eddie enough and leaned in to kiss the fury from his pursed lips. Eddie’s temper quickly evaporated like it so often did, and he repositioned his hands to hook into Richie’s waistband. With the flick of his thumbs, Richie’s fully erect dick sprung into the air, ready for orders. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on.

“Shit, Tozier.” Eddie whispered when he caught sight of it.

“I told you about the porn stars, right?” He wiggled his eyebrows seductively.

“Fuck off.” He muttered grasping at Richie’s pajama bottoms once more, this time shimmying them loose from his ass.

“Uh-uh, Eddie boy…” Richie protested while raising himself to help Eddie out, just the same. “Those darling boxers need to come off too.”

“So why don’t you do something about it?” Eddie mocked as he shoved Richie back with enough force to roll him on his back, long legs dangling in the air.

When Eddie finally managed to yank the offending cotton pants off, Richie rolled back forward, returning his legs to Eddie’s sides. He helped him make quick work of his underwear, and tossed them vaguely in the same direction as the rest of their clothes.

Now that there was nothing between them but air, Richie hit a snag.

“So…um… How do you want to…uuhhh, _go about this_?” He chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his head. In the movies, things just always kind of fell into place.

“Porn stars, huh?” Eddie cocked an eyebrow and reached for Richie’s hand. “How about you put your hands on me?”

His smirk softened to a warm, lusty grin as he guided Richie’s hand to his equally aroused dick. The sigh he let out when Richie’s fingers enclosed around the sensitive flesh was positively filthy. Eddie’s eyes closed and his head lulled back as Richie slowly started to pump his hand.

“Lie down for me?” Richie murmured between his steadily more and more ragged breaths.

Eddie did as requested, and Richie followed, kneeling above him, his free hand running up and down the golden streak on his chest. A thought occurred to Richie just then, and before he could even put the kibosh on it, he found his body was already going through with it. The hand he’d been running up and down Eddie’s torso, was now climbing past his collar bone and up his neck. He watched in disbelief as his own hand, acting of its own free will, slid up to Eddie’s mouth and pushed a finger inside. He was equally shocked to see that Eddie didn’t immediately spit it out. Instead, he clamped his hands around his wrist and sucked at the runaway digit.

Richie didn’t think it was possible for him to get any more aroused, but there he was; Eddie’s tongue swirling around his finger and his erection only getting more painful.

“Eddie… Do you want me to-“

“Yes.” He wheezed, nipping at the tip of his finger as he spoke. Eddie released his hand and gingerly spread his legs, leaving little doubt that he knew exactly what Richie was about to ask. He held his breath as Richie gradually slipped the wetted finger into the tight muscles of his ass. Eddie let slip a sexy grunt as he clenched around him, and Richie lost all control.

He freed his hand of Eddie’s dick, and fell on his chest, kissing and licking at every piece he could get ahold of… while continuing to massage him open, of course.

After a few hickeys and a few more fingers, Richie forced himself up onto his knees, and lifted Eddie onto his thighs. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

With a single push, Richie managed to slide all the way in. He nearly blew his load right then and there, as Eddie arched his back into the mattress and let out a wanton cry. Richie’s fingers dug into his hips as Eddie’s dug into the crumpled sheets around them. Jesus Fuck, he was going to fuck Eddie right into the ground. This morning. That night. And every single day after. They had a lot of years to catch up on.

“Can I… touch you…Richie?…” Eddie stammered out between lusty gasps.

“Anything you want, Babe…As long as I can touch _you_.” Richie hissed as he withdrew from Eddie and allowed him to adjust himself against the bed before crawling back over him. He repositioned himself over Eddie and reentered him with ease, moaning as he pushed their bodies together.

Eddie dragged his hands up Richie’s ribcage, but he was having none of that. Richie grabbed his hands and pined them to the sides of his head.

“I didn’t say we were using our hands.” Richie rocked his hips in a sudden thrust, and swallowed Eddie’s cry before it could escape his lips.

“Fuckin’ Asshole…” Eddie moaned against Richie’s mouth. He had a comeback ready to go, but no, it was too easy.

He moved his lips away from Eddie’s mouth and trailed them along his neck and jawline, sucking bruises into his skin. Eddie responded by thrusting his hips against Richie’s, causing more delicious friction between Richie’s dick and Eddie. The sensation of his slick erection sliding between their stomachs sent Richie into overdrive.

Forehead buried in the crook of his neck, Richie set a punishing pace, matched by the equally unraveling Eddie. His legs hooked behind him and Richie finally freed his hands, allowing the opportunity for Eddie to crush himself against him as their movements became for erratic and clumsy. Richie managed a hand under Eddie’s back and held on to him as tight as he had before.

“Richie?....” Eddie strained. He could hear the rising climax in his voice. Richie could tell he wasn’t asking a question, so much as waiting for reassurance.

“M’ here, Eddie…” Was all he could muster out before he felt his orgasm tackle him to the ground. He bit a tense growl into Eddie’s clavicle, as the sensations became too much. He shuddered as electric shocks raced through every nerve in his body, leaving him breathless and shuddering as he came. The nails Richie felt digging into his back told him that Eddie was right behind him. With a few more thrusts of Eddie’s hips against him, Richie felt the hot semen spill between their bodies.

Richie’s limbs failed him all at once, and he collapsed his full weight onto Eddie, whose clawing hands suddenly turned into gentle caresses across the now tender skin. He knew they should get up and clean themselves off. But Richie left that proposal to Eddie, who would no doubt insist on a shower before actually noticing and reprimanding him for how much of a sty his room was. Richie guessed it would only take about five minutes before the realization that they were basking in their sexual, love juice, filth. So for the next few quiet minutes, Richie let the silence be.

********After A hot shower and a ‘_change the sheets, at least, Richie_!’*******

Richie was peacefully dozing in Eddie’s arms when he suddenly shot bolt upright. “JESUS, FUCK, SHIT, EDDIE!!!!”

“WHAT!?!” Eddie sat up in a panic.

“The others! We gotta tell the others that you’re… you know…!” He motioned at Eddie with flailing hands.

“Oh, shit, yeah!” Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I totally forgot! But….” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I mean, we don’t even know what… how…why… What are we gonna tell them?”

“Well I don’t know about _you_, but I was gonna lead with, ‘I just fucked a zombie!...” He flung an arm over Eddie’s shoulder and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Get off me, dipshit!” Eddie wiggled out from under Richie’s arm, only from Richie to pin him to the bed by his shoulders.

“Not in a million years, Drop Dead Ed!” And Richie dove for his mouth before the other could protest the new nickname he was definitely going to be stuck with until the end of time.

************

It would take another hour before Richie and Eddie made it to his phone to tell the other Losers the good news. They would find, however, that Richie had 48 missed calls and messages from their group chat. Several were from a number that shouldn’t have been active at all. But to be fair, Stan was incredibly confused to wake up next to his wife in his bed that morning, with two golden scars tattooed across his wrists. He was just as confused as Bill had been to find Georgie sitting on his porch with another mysterious golden scar wrapped around the top of his right arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *OPRAH KICKS OPEN THE DOOR* YOU GET TO LIVE! YOU GET TO LIVE! EVERY. BODY. GETS. TO. LIIIIVE!!!!!!
> 
> So I have a whole speech here that I'm going to try and keep as simple as possible.... BUT, as much as I love fix-its where Eddie is magically brought back, by the universe or Chud, then it could damn well bring back Stan and Georgie.
> 
> Head Canon:  
The Universe or whatever higher being you want to call it, brings back Eddie, Stan, and Georgie as a reward for the Losers defeating the Evil that had infected their world. They've each been brought back from their moment of death, and dropped off where the Universe felt they belonged. Their injuries remain as golden shimmering scars that only they and the other Losers can see, as a reminder for what they have done or sacrificed to defeat the evil. 
> 
> I'm considering making this into a collection called Golden Scars AU and I'll eventually add a couple of one shots for the others brought back. Like one for Bill and Georgie, one for Stan, and one where they're all reunited once more.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'M SORRY!!!! I live for the Drama and the Angst!!!!!!! What will happen in the morning!?!?!


End file.
